


Cookies, Cupcakes, and Hockey Captains

by RunWithWolves



Series: Tidbits and Timbits [4]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, hockey rink au, is so fluffy i'm gonna die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-29 19:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: The hockey arena is loud, cold, and Carmilla hates it from her perch working the arena's concession stand. She hates it a little less when a new hockey team books ice time and she gets the opportunity to start tormenting Captain Laura Hollis. Laura wants nothing more than a cookie from the stand but Carmilla refuses to sell her one.Laura will do whatever it takes to get that cookie, including figuring out why "I hate ice" Carmilla Karnstein works at a hockey arena.





	1. Off the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get Carmilla story 74 up so Friday's Big Bang piece could be story 75. Keep an eye out for a bunch of great stories dropping Friday from a bunch of authors and artists. Hammocksqurl asked for a hockey au so here you go!
> 
> I'll get you part 2 of this one slightly after the weekened, it's mostly written. I just didn't want to risk it. :) Consider this a warm up for your Big Bang reading.

Carmilla hated ice.

Which made her current job an odd choice.

She buried deeper into the cheap fabric of her work sweater and glared at the hockey rink staring at her from just beyond the edges of her concession booth; the ice just glinted back as the arena lights flickered off it’s surface. The loud shouts of patrons and players filled her head as they slowly cleared off the ice. She gave the surface one final glare for good measure then turned to the incessantly beeping machine next to her, flipping over the hot dogs until everything in the booth smelled like cheap meat fumes.

Sometimes she’d swear that smell haunted her pillow at night when even her favourite shampoo couldn’t get it out. 

“Scary hottie!” She groaned as Kirsch's familiar voice cut through the buzz of people milling around the arena, “Can I get a tub of popcorn? Need to load up before riding Big Z! Gotta get her purring smooth for the players.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “It’s a zamboni, beefcake, not a person.”

“Hey!” Kirsch objected, “You gotta treat that lady right to get the perfect shine.”

Sighing, Carmilla turned and scooped some popcorn into the biggest tub without even bothering to ask what size he wanted. The hulking dude bro grinning at her from the counter was an unfortunate staple of her shift. The arena owner’s son, Kirsch took a significant amount of pride in his job as zamboni driver. 

With a tub of popcorn for Kirsch and a mouthful for herself, she passed it through the window. Then she paused with a frown, hanging onto the edges of the tub, “I thought we didn’t have anyone on the ice for another couple of hours.”

Wednesday afternoons from 1-4 was empty ice and Carmilla had a novel stashed underneath the pretzel machine for the best part of the week. No parents to annoy her or fans who cheered too loudly or small children hyped up on sugar. 

All she wanted was a place that was quiet and warm. 

And yet, she still showed up for every shift. 

Her shoulders tensed, “It better not be-”

“It’s not figure skaters,” Kirsch assured her quickly. Her spine softened and he snatched the popcorn tub away. “I wouldn’t do that to you CK and I found these myself.” Popcorn crumpled from Kirsch’s mouth as he spoke, “Some new team rented it out for practice. They’ve got Saturday night games too. I met their assistant captain - told her we had open ice time. She’s a total babe. They start at two.”

“Lovely,” Carmilla drawled, adjusting the hot dogs again, “The one bright spot of this job and you just had to ruin it for me.”

Kirsch shrugged and shoved more popcorn in his mouth, grinning around it, “You’ll thank me later scary hottie. Trust me.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes and burrowed deeper into the sweater, “Unlikely.”

He waved goodbye, leaving her to groan as the junior league players headed towards her booth with their families around them; fresh off the ice players were the worst.

Twenty minutes later and Carmilla had a headache. A pounding in your head and never let you go kind of headache that came from one too many toddlers screaming for bags of candy floss and one too many frat boys trying to get her number while munching a truly disgusting quantity of hot dogs at once. 

With the line finally cleared, she leaned back and rubbed her temples. If one more person asked for anything then she was definitely going to straight up murder them. No qualms about it. Just drain them-

“Excuse me?” A light female voice cut in.

Carmilla kept her eyes closed and snapped, “What?”

There was a pause. When the voice returned, it was as a thin veneer of politeness over anger, “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like a cookie please.”

Carmilla didn’t move, “We’re fresh out of cookies.”

“You are not! They’re right there!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Carmilla said. Maybe the girl would go away.

Or not, “I can literally see them!” The girl said.

Sighing, Carmilla dropped her hand and opened her eyes to let the world come back into blurry focus. She blinked. Then blinked again, shoulders straightening slightly.

While the sounds of the arena still whirled around her, the cold nipping her skin, Carmilla found that everything faded away by half. The noise and cold reduced like it hadn’t in years. 

Not since ice and skates and arenas had meant something else entirely.

There was a girl in front of her. A girl who looked like she’d walked right off a hockey magazine cover shoot. She had a hockey bag thrown over her shoulder that was as big as she was and her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. A hockey stick rested casually in her free hand while the other tapped on the glass keeping her from the desired cookie. She was already wearing her jersey, although none of the pads were on yet, and the oversized fabric hung on her frame in shades of blue and yellow. A small number 98 was on her chest and a small C was facing it on the other side as a snarling panther took up the majority of the jersey space. 

Best of all though, was her face. A bunched in a knot as she glared at Carmilla with something that could only be called an angry adorable hedgehog trying it’s best and failing. 

Finally. Something interesting.

Carmilla practically slunk forward, leaning across the front counter and letting a lazy smirk drift over her face as she pointedly kept her eyes away from the cookies, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carmilla said, “There are no cookies here. Must be a figment of your imagination.”

“They’re right there!” The girl said.

Carmilla shook her head, “Sorry, Cap. No cookies here.Maybe you’ve been hit with one too many hockey pucks.”

“I have not! My helmet is ultra protective and my Dad got it special.” Then she frowned and quirked her head, “How did you know I’m Captain?”

“It’s on your shirt, Cap.”

The girl’s blush was one of the best things Carmilla had seen, “Oh, right.” Even as the blush stayed, she rallied herself, “That doesn’t change the fact that there are cookies right there and you’re refusing to give them to me.”

“Can’t give you what’s not there,” it was worth it just to see the vein pulse in the side of the girl’s head. “Tell you what,” Carmilla reached down and into the baked goods tray and hovered her hand, “we’re fresh out of cookies but I can offer you one cupcake, free of charge even.”

She left it sitting on the top of the glass, tantalizing as the girl’s eyes darted from it to Carmilla and back again.

“That’s not what I asked for.” she huffed.

Carmilla grinned, “But it’s what I’m offering.”

“Why can’t you just give me what I want!”

A valid question. Carmilla shrugged, “Perhaps my day is so boring that messing with uptight hockey captains is my best form of entertainment or maybe I like giving baked goods to pretty girls or perhaps,” Carmilla leaned across the counter and snagged her own lip, letting her eyes roam. The girl’s breath caught, “Or perhaps I have some tragic backstory and this is my plea for help or maybe I just really hate anything to do with ice.” She stepped back, “Who can say, Captain?”

Their gazes caught for just a minute and Carmilla tried not to flinch with the intensity of the gaze suddenly on her, the brief thought that perhaps she’d miscalculated flinging through her head.

“Laura!”

The girl jumped as the call echoed through the arena and Carmilla cursed the return of the noise as it flooded her ears and the cold nibbled the edges of her sweater despite Kirsch assuring that the arena was warm for everyone else. 

“Laura! Let’s go. I thought you wanted to start practice early?” The tall redhead that Kirsch was chatting up was the one shouting, a big A on her shirt proclaiming her assistant captain to the world. 

“Hold on!” The girl shouted back. 

Laura shouted back. Her name was Laura. Laura Hollis if the name on the back of her jersey was anything to go by.

Carmilla stored the name away for future reference as Laura spun towards her, “Look, can I just have my cookie?”

“Nope.”

Laura practically growled, swiping the cupcake from the counter and readjusting her hockey bag on her shoulder, “It’s the hating ice bit isn’t it? That’s why you’re so grumpy? Can’t stand anyone else having fun on the ice so you try and make everyone feel just as miserable as you are.”

Carmilla’s smirk dropped away, feeling something like fire ignite in her gut. She trampled it and just said, “Misery loves company, cupcake.”

#

She’d thought it was done. She’d thought that was it. Laura and her team had skated onto the ice and gone about their practice. 

Until.

There was a hockey Captain practically leaning over the counter and into her booth, nearly knocking her book to the ground.

Laura stared up at her, “I’m going to change your mind about liking ice and skating.”

She left an empty cupcake sleeve on the counter.

#

There was something about the way Laura played, as much as Carmilla didn’t actively try to watch her practices from the booth, she couldn’t quite manage to keep her eyes off Captain Cupcake. Every single practice, Laura showed up and demanded a cookie.

Every single time, Carmilla gave her a cupcake. 

And every single time, Laura just kept coming. 

The second practice, Laura practically charged up to the counter, “One cookie please!”

Carmilla said nothing. She just plopped a cupcake on top of the glass, grabbed a cookie from the display, and walked away to eat it. Smirking all the while.

Or as far as away as the booth would allow. 

Which was maybe a meter. 

Not far enough away from Captain Laura Cupcake, “Why do you work here if you hate ice and skating?”

“Why do keep asking for cookies if you know you’re not going to get one?” Carmilla responded. 

“Because you have to cave eventually.” Laura said.

Carmilla took another bite of cookie, “You could complain to management.”

Laura squinted at her, “That would be a hollow victory. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you avoided my question.”

She winked, “And I’ll keep right on doing so, Cap.”

Laura huffed, snagging the cupcake and heading off to practice.

The third week, Laura got right to the point, “Cookie?”

“Nope.” Carmilla popped the p sound and put the cupcake on the counter. 

Laura ignored it, just staring at Carmilla with eyes narrowed to slits as though she was trying and failing to make some kind of complex equation work. Carmilla indulged her for a moment, staring back at the cute face, then turned and put her back to Laura.

“I want to offer you a spot on the team.”

Carmilla dropped her hot dog tongs. “What?” she spat and spun back around.

“The Blue Panthers,” Laura said, “Our hockey team. I want to offer you a spot. Provisionally of course. We’d have to see you skate and you’d have to start on the fourth line but yeah. You want a new job? You can join us!”

Carmilla just stared at her then bent and picked up the tongs, “Definitely too many hockey pucks to the head. Cupcake, why in the world would you think that I want to be part of your team?”

The bunched face Laura made at the nicknames was adorable but Laura refused to be distracted, “Because I promised to make you like skating and I was trying to figure out why someone who apparently doesn’t like skating would even work here. So you must like it but can’t do it? Probably because money or something? So I wanted to give you the chance to actually skate! Plus, if you’re working for a money thing instead of a skating thing then we can pay you a little bit. Not a lot but some.”

“You’re serious.”

“Of course!” Laura rummaged in her bag, “Look, I made you a shirt! Had to ask that Kirsch guy who keeps hitting on Danny for the name but - here!”

The next thing Carmilla knew there was a blue jersey with the name Karnstein written across the back in abrasively yellow letters. Laura was smiling at her, eyes wide as she rocked on her heels. Carmilla’s hand went out, nearly touching the fabric before she deviated and grabbed a cookie instead.

There was a certain satisfaction in munching it front of Laura as Laura’s nostrils flared with every bite.

“I’m not much of a hockey player,” Carmilla said, “I’m okay with the job I have, thanks.”

“Oh.” Laura’s gaze shut down and something tinged in Carmilla’s chest as all the enthusiasm drained out Laura. “Um. Okay.”

It was like kicking a puppy. Carmilla sighed, “Why do you even care if I like the ice?”

Laura’s answer was easy, “Because I love it.”

Something in Carmilla’s chest ached with old memories.

Laura continued, “Everyone deserves to do somewhere that makes them happy. For me, that’s the ice.If you’re stuck here, then you should be able to be happy here too.”

She melted. Just a tad. A hair. A small trickle of water leaking from an ice cube but as Carmilla stared at the resolution of the hockey Captain watching her, a jersey with Carmilla’s name in her hands, she melted just a little. 

And as Carmilla started to melt, she said nothing. Just watched and stared as Laura took the cupcake, slowly pulled away the Karnstein jersey, and walked away.

The fourth practice had been their shortest interaction yet. Laura was late and burst through the doors to nearly trip over her stick, hair flying around her face. Carmilla snorted then tried to hide her mirth. Laura still surprised. Still stopped long enough for a quick, “Cookie?” and Carmilla’s “nope” before Laura was running off to join practice. 

There was something about watching Laura play and Carmilla, despite her best efforts, couldn’t take her eyes off Laura. She lumbered on the ground, helmet on her head and hockey skates clumsy on dry land but the moment her skates touched the ice.

Magic. 

The smile cracked across Laura’s face and then hardened into determination as she took off like a rocket across the ice. Backwards and forwards, the stick in her hand like it belonged there as pucks hit the wooden blade with a crack. There was unmistakable joy in every movement. Every quick stop and huffed breath. Her red face and huffing lungs doing nothing to stop her smile after every shift. 

It lunged to life with every successful practice. Every drill gone well and every new trick learned. For each teammate who improved, Laura smiled and said something that always had them walking away in smiles themselves. She even had a smile for when she scored a goal on Laf, the brightest of the bunch and accompanied by the smallest fistpump.

But Carmilla’s favourite was the last five minutes of ice time. Technically, the Panther’s practice had ended but Laura always stayed just a little longer. An extra five minutes where she just skated fast loops around the arena. Laura would get up to speed, something sparking in her eyes as a grin curled on the edges of her mouth.

Faster and faster.

Then, inevitably, it would happen. Laura would throw out her arms and close her arms and just ride the straightaway.

The biggest smile on her face that Carmilla had ever seen.

That was joy.

That was what skating meant to Laura Hollis.

Then Laura’s eyes would open and she’d stop on a dime.

Except this time, when Laura opened her eyes, they locked onto Carmilla and didn’t let go through the stop. They didn’t let go as Laura unbuckled her helmet and they didn’t let go as Laura skated backward off the ice to disappear into the changing rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cupcakes, you are all perpetually epic and I'm ridiculously and continually flabbergasted by the strength and kindness of this fandom and its creampuffs with your comment, kudos and [ tumblr stop-ins ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/).


	2. Beside The Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've upped this to 3 chapters simply because i wanted to get you something this week before i lose my internet access. hopefully part 3 will come the week after

Laura was actually early to the next practice. “So,” Laura said, ignoring the cupcake on the counter, “I think I figured it out, you know. Why you hate ice and skating?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “Because it’s cold and loud and miserable? A+ investigation skills there, cupcake.”

She tried not to picture Laura face as she skated, eyes closed and smile huge.

Laura shook her head, “I think it’s because you don’t know how to skate! So, I’m offering to teach you. We can do private lessons and everything! All you have to do is get out on that ice and I know that you’ll love it.” She threw her arms out, a grin on her lips and determination in her eyes.

Carmilla went stiff. The long used words came easy, “I’m not getting on that ice.”

Laura frowned but’ her eyes stayed determined, “I know it seems scary but I promise it’s not. I’ll be right there and-”

“I know how to skate.” Carmilla cut her off, “And trust me, I’m never getting on that ice again.”

“But-”

“Don’t push it, Captain.” Carmilla pushed the cupcake into Laura’s arms and closed the pulldown on the booth, locking herself in the dark and away from promises of ice time.

When Laura entered the arena for her next practice, Carmilla kept her eyes down.

But still, “One cookie please.”

When Carmilla raised her head, Laura was waiting at the counter. Her smile in place but something more tentative shading it’s colour. Soft. Apologetic. It was enough to have Carmilla moving; she reached out and grabbed another cupcake, putting it gently on the counter. 

Laura perked up immediately, grabbing the cupcake and biting into it without preamble. “You know, these actually aren’t bad.”

“Don’t go using reverse psychology on me,” Carmilla said, “I’m not going to start giving you cookies that easily.”

“Worth a shot,” Laura said.

The next time she saw Laura, it was a Monday. Not a practice day. Carmilla frowned as Laura walked through the arena doors with a backpack on her shoulder where the hockey bag should have been and a button-up instead of her jersey.

“Cookie, please”

Carmilla handed her a cupcake, “I think you’ve got the days mixed up, cupcake.”

Laura shook her head, “Nope. No practice today. Just figured I’d stop by.” Carmilla frowned as Laura walked away without another word. The puzzlement only grew when Laura returned, hauling a rickety stool behind her that Carmilla was pretty sure had sat in the ref’s room for decades. 

Plunking the stool down next to Carmilla’s window, Laura pulled out a textbook and started working. 

Carmilla waited for the explanation.

None came.

“This isn’t a work station,” she tried.

Laura shrugged, “I’m off to the side and I’ll move if I get in the way.” Then she kept working.

Shrugging, Carmilla tried to ignore her. She flipped the hot dogs, made some popcorn, and ate a cookie. Laura was still there, tapping a pencil against her face as she read. So Carmilla double checked the cotton candy, cleaned the coffee machine, and counted literally every cup they had.

Laura was still there. She said nothing and just worked quietly.

“Alright,” Carmilla said at last, “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to figure it out,” Laura wrote something down in the margins of her notebook and then looked up, “You know how to skate so it can’t be about wanting to get out there and you hate ice so it can’t because you like it here - but you’re still here. That doesn’t make any sense.” She shrugged, “So there must be some reason why you’re here and I’m going to figure it out. I’m gathering data. Don’t want to miss anything.”

Carmilla raised an eyebrow, “Maybe there’s no reason. Maybe this is just a job.”

“Please,” Laura scoffed and lifted her textbook, tapping the journalism 101 heading, “there’s always a reason.”

And so Laura became a permanent fixture; she never asked Carmilla’s shifts but still somehow managed to show up for each of them. She’d long stopped asking for a cookie but Carmilla always put the cupcake down beside her anyway.

It definitely wasn’t for the soft smile it earned her.

Without trying, Carmilla learned things about Captain Laura Hollis as the arena buzzed around them and the coolness of the ice permeated the air. She learned that Laura had a serious sweet tooth. That Laura was a journalism major. That Laura had played hockey since she was five and her Dad coached the team. She learned that Laura gnawed the end of pencils and that sometimes those pencils ended up in Laura’s hair when she couldn’t find a hair elastic.

She learned that pretty girls pulling pencils from their hair to let it tumble over their shoulders made her mouth dry and knees soft. 

She also learned that while Laura excelled at writing and journalism, she was rubbish at philosophy. In her frustration with the text, nose in a crunch, Laura started to mumble the words out loud. 

Carmilla caught the end of a Camus text before Laura had dropped forehead first to the counter, “I’m going to fail.”

She couldn’t help herself, the text rolling off easily, “I see that man going back down with a heavy yet measured step toward the torment of which he will never know the end. That hour like a breathing-space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock." 

“What?” Laura had a sticky note stuck to her neck and Carmilla tried not chuckle.

“Camus, cupcake,” she said, “The same book you were just reading, in fact.”

Laura’s jaw dropped, “How did you know I was-”

“You read aloud when you don’t understand things,” Carmilla said.

“Oh,” Laura’s pretty blush returned. Then she sighed, “It’s an elective. The department wants us to be well rounded and I thought the course sounded interesting but I’m just not getting it at all.”

Laura’s joy filled face, free on the rink, crossed her mind. A far cry from the pouting girl in front of her.

“I suppose,” Carmilla said, “That I could take a look.”

“You know this stuff?” It was worth the offer to see a fraction of that spark ignite in her eyes.

“It’s my major.”

And so, Carmilla somehow found herself leaning over the counter with a textbook between them and Laura’s head close to her own. Their hands brushing as Carmilla turned the pages and that spark slowly returning to Laura’s eyes as Carmilla talked. So she didn’t stop talking. The next thing she knew, her hands were whirling as theories and comparisons fell from her mouth. 

She didn’t notice the time pass or the loud shouts of the players or the cold of the arena.

She did notice when Laura grabbed her arm in excitement when she finally figured a concept out. She noticed the way Laura’s fingers lingered. Warm and soft.

#

Laura Hollis was a distraction and Carmilla couldn’t get rid of her. Didn’t want to get rid of her. Each day, a different cupcake from the batch was set aside to ensure it wasn’t eaten. Each day, it was presented when Laura plunked down on the stool and asked Carmilla another question. 

Sometimes it was philosophy.

But sometimes it was other things. Laura’s love of tv and had Carmilla seen this. Favourite books. Best foods. Future plans. A detailed explanation of the problems with whatever play Laura was trying to design for the team completed with actions and live demonstration that had Laura running across concrete in front of the booth like it was ice. 

Laura Hollis was a distraction and she made things slip out of Carmilla without meaning to. She made things slip out of Carmilla because Carmilla wanted to tell her. Wanted to tell her about this book that Laura just had to read. Wanted to hear her report on it later. Wanted to watch Doctor Who so that she could use its principles to better explain philosophy.

When Laura was in the arena, Carmilla didn’t feel the cold or hear the noise.

So Carmilla never saw her coming. 

The arena had taken the quiet that it only found during a private booking when the ice was reserved for neither open public or loud teams or school kids. This was serious. Professional.

Carmilla hadn’t considered who might rent out this ice until they were standing right in front of her as Laura’s eyes lit up when she grasped the implications of Cybermen upgrading on philosophical concepts. 

Carmilla froze like she was the ice itself. The past rearing it’s head.

“If it isn’t Mircalla Karnstein. This certainly isn’t where I expected to see you.” 

Ell. Exactly as Carmilla remembered her from the last time they’d seen each other on the ice. This ice. The same bright lights highlighting cheekbones and kissing dark hair. In her peripheral, Carmilla could see Laura frowning and sliding slightly off the stool, nearly standing. 

But Carmilla couldn’t look away from Ell, “What?” It was all she could manage. 

“Olympic tryouts are coming,” Ell said, “I’m home visiting my father and figured that I’d get some ice time in. For nostalgia. Can’t be getting sloppy.”

Carmilla said nothing. Still frozen. Frozen. Frozen. The same way she had under those lights as Ell had skated away only a few years ago.

Laura’s voice drew her gaze. She was fully standing now, one hand on the counter like she was reaching for Carmilla while the other landed on her hip. Stance solid. Eyes intense.

Captain Hollis.

“Can Carmilla get you anything? Cause we’re kind of in the middle of studying here.”

The ‘go away’ clear in her tone.

Ell barely spared her a look, “A tea.”

Carmilla wasn’t sure how her hands moved but they did and soon Ell was walking away. Carmilla just stood there. Watching. Still. Frozen. 

“Carm?” Laura filled her view, centering herself in her gaze, “Are you okay?”

Warm crept out and touched her fingers where they rested on the space where she’d placed Ell’s tea. Slowly, it closed over her hand and warmth travelled up her arm as it gently squeezed. 

Carmilla took a breath, “I think we’re going to close for the day, cupcake.”

Carmilla didn’t move.

“Okay,” Laura said. “Okay.”

Somehow, she appeared in the booth and moved alongside Carmilla as they closed everything down in silence. Carmilla broke the silence as she walked towards the arena doors, Laura just behind her.

Never asking. No more questions. 

That was enough to have words falling from her tongue. “Mircalla Karnstein,” Carmilla said, “Google her.”

She barely slept that night.

The next day, Carmilla had the cupcake waiting and Laura took it tentatively. Textbooks nowhere in sight. Her words were soft, “You were a figure skater. You were supposed to end up at the Olympics.”

Carmilla nodded. She picked up a cookie and started picking the chocolate chips out of it, barely looking at Laura, “Mircalla was a stage name. I quit a few years ago.”

“Why?” Laura asked, then backtracked, “I mean, if you want to tell me. The papers were kind of vague about the whole thing.”

“Listening to my emotional baggage is a lot work to get a cookie, Cap” Carmilla tried for the joke.

Laura wouldn’t let her. Eyes serious. Hand warm where it found Carmilla’s, “I think this stopped being about cookies a long time ago.”

Any fight left deflated right out of Carmilla as those brown eyes found hers, “Ell and I were dating,” she said, “we were both Olympic contenders, competitors actually, but after so many years of going to the same events and sharing a hometown rink - we were best friends before we ever fell in love.” Carmilla’s laugh was angry, her eyes turning to the ice, “Before I fell in love.”

“Carm.”

Carmilla didn’t stop, “My mother was my coach. Always had been. I never really had a choice in the matter and she was definitely a perfectionist. Every loop and twirl had to be done perfectly a thousand times over and all she wanted was for her ‘glittering girl’ to get to the Olympics. And I,” she couldn’t look at Laura, the lights glinting off the ice, “I just loved to skate. The feel of your skates on ice, the wind whooshing past you. I couldn’t get enough. The shows and the competition got me more ice time. That was all I really wanted.”

“Ell was always more competitive than I was,” Carmilla continued, “She wanted to win. She was in it to win and the skating itself came second. I don’t know if she ever actually loved the ice or if it was just something she was good at. Winning didn’t matter to me so,” Carmilla drew her hand from Laura’s to pick at the counter, “when she asked me to let her win. I did. Second was good enough for me. Just little things. Little imperfections. But enough to drop my score.” 

She paused, throat clogged, but still couldn’t stop the trill of surprise in her throat when Laura’s hand found her own again and gently squeezed. 

It was enough to keep the words going, “It was only later that I learned she’d been betting on the matches, making money from her wins. I found out when they opened an investigation on her and she came to me, crying, begging, pleading because it was going to be the ‘end of her career’. So,” Carmilla took a deep breath, “I took the fall.The career, it didn’t matter to me. All I needed was the ice and the girl I was in love with.”

She could practically feel Laura’s gaze burning into the side of her head. Carmilla closed her eyes against the ice, “Mother was furious of course, she’d just lost everything she ever wanted but I didn’t care. Ell let me use her ice time and we were supposed to be happy.”

Supposed to.

“A few weeks later, I was coming out of a triple axle,” Carmilla said, “In this stadium. Just over that blue line.” She waited for Laura to turn towards it but she never did. Carmilla continued, “and Ell was there waiting. Expressionless. I’d barely caught my breath and she told me that she was dumping me, moving, and joining a professional team. Then she walked off. Just left me there on the ice. Later, I found out that my mother had taken Ell on as her new star.”

She looked down at her fingers, somehow intertwined with Laura’s, “I took this job to get the ice time but as soon as I skated on, all I could taste was bitterness. All that joy was gone. None of it left. Tainted. I hated it. Never set foot on it again.” She forced a smile on her face, “And there you go, Captain, mystery solved.”

But Laura wasn’t smiling. In fact, her face was tight in anger and, to Carmilla’s surprise, eyes glossy with barely held in tears. The “how could she do that!!!” exploded out of her.

Carmilla’s eyebrows went into her hairline, “It was years ago.”

“So what?” Laura’s fist was clenched but her other hand was still soft in Carmilla’s own, “She used you, Carm. And then just left you. And then she thinks she can come back strutting out here after ruining your career and hurting you and-” the words continued, falling over each other in a torrential flurry of water. 

Carmilla blinked then, as the flurry washed over her, melted a little more. The smallest smile as she watched Laura rage. Rage on her behalf. 

“Cupcake,” Carmilla cut her off, “Your rage is appreciated but it’s not going to do anything. The past is done.”

Laura huffed, clearly displeased with this logic, “But she hurt you.”

“She did.” Carmilla shrugged and drew away, making herself a pretzel to give her hands something to do without Laura holding them. 

“So you don’t hate ice?” Laura asked.

Carmilla shrugged, “I didn’t. Then I did. Now. I don’t know. I still have no interest in skating though.”

Laura laughing her way across a rink danced over her memory.

“What changed?” Laura pushed, “And why do you still work here where it all happened if you’re not evening going to use the ice time?” 

Carmilla debated giving her the real answer. Instead, she took a jaunty bite of her pretzel, winked, and said, “I have to keep my air of mystery somehow, don’t I?”

Laura pouted but there was a smile curling at the edges of her mouth.

#

The next day was a practice day and Laura slammed into her counter with her hockey bag on her shoulder, “I’d like a cookie but you’re gonna say nope so just give me my cupcake because I have something for you.” She leaned over the counter and snagged her own cupcake, bypassing the cookies entirely.

Carmilla blinked, arm deep in the popcorn machine as she tried to dislodge some stray kernels. “Hello to you too.”

“No time for that!” Laura slapped something onto the surface, “I’m late. These are for you! Hope you come. It’s not figure skating so. You know. I hoped. Maybe.” Then she turned bright red. Carmilla only got to admire it for a moment before Laura shouted, “Okay. Cool. Bye!” and ran off into the dressing room.

Arm still covered in popcorn butter, Carmilla reached out for the thin envelope sitting on the counter and flicked it out.

Out fell a season pass for the Silas Panthers compliments of “Captain Laura Hollis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All or your comments, kudos and [ tumblr flails ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/) mean the world. Just thank you


	3. On The Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S SO FLUFFY I'M GONNA DIE

It was strange to be in the arena and not in her booth. Saturday night was a work shift that Carmilla avoided like the plague, just endless hockey games one after the other, and yet somehow she’d ended up in the literal stands and surrounded by the same annoying fans she’d been trying to avoid. 

She didn’t even know why she was here.

She knew exactly why she here. 

The ‘compliments of Captain Laura Hollis’ ticket pass was still caught between her fingers as she fiddled with the plastic over and over again. The seat was a good one. Only a few rows back from the blue line and giving her a perfect view of the Silas Panther’s box just across the ice that Kirsch had cleaned to a shine. The crowd thrummed around her, a low buzz from which Carmilla pulled terms like “shot at the title” and “best Captain we’ve had yet” and found her heart swelling just a little.

Like it had a right to.

She burrowed deeper into her thick sweater. It didn’t.

Except. “Compliments of Captain Laura Hollis.”

If she’d thought that the crowd had been loud before, they practically exploded when the Panthers hit the ice. Dressed in their blue and yellow, the team burst from the archway and skated a full circle around the arena as the announcers called their names, lights flashing on the snarling panther logo over the ice’s surface. 

As they ran through the names, Carmilla found herself getting tenser and tenser when Laura’s name wasn’t called. Until the words boomed over the loudspeaker, “And last, but definitely not least, is the fearless, the brave, the loyal, and the bold. Our Captain. Number 98 herself. Captain Laura Hoooooolllllllis!”

Laura whipped onto the ice. Her helmet off and hair streaming behind her as she took her loop and fist pumped her glove to the roaring crowd. Without her express intent, Carmilla found herself on her feet with the crowd. 

It was worth it when Laura stopped at the blue line, ice flying under the sharp edge of her skates, and her eyes jumped to Carmilla’s seat. A shot of worry that only the first few rows could see. They softened immediately when Carmilla gave her a small wave and a smile broke over Laura’s face. 

The goalie, “Lafontaine” by the back of their shirt, skated pasted and whacked Laura on the back of the head, saying something that Carmilla couldn’t hear but had Laura turning red.

Laura glanced over at Carmilla. Then her smile turned fierce, determination like Carmilla had never seen setting over Laura’s face as her teammate passed her a helmet and Laura strapped it on. 

Ten minutes and 53 seconds later, the buzzer went off and the light in the back of the opposing team’s net went off. Laura turned immediately, clumsy grace on skates, and pointed to Carmilla before her teammates piled on her.

When the second goal came, Laura on the assist, Carmilla didn’t hesitate jumping to her feet to cheer.

#

With a Panther’s winning score still flashing on the scoreboard, Carmilla found herself lingering at the arena after the game was over. Crowd dissipated except a few people who were clearly friends or family of the players. They eyed Carmilla oddly and she tried to amble away like she wasn’t lingering. She recognized some of them, her stomach twisting as old figure skaters she’d once known stood in the crowd. With all the time spent at the arena, it wasn’t an uncommon match. None of them had been at her and Ell’s level but they were close enough to have become an unpleasant memory.

A clang drew her gaze as the girl who had the Saturday night shift started to pull the metal cover down on the concessions booth. 

Inspiration struck.

A reason to wait.

Stopping the cover just before it could fall, Carmilla reached in and plucked a cupcake from the remaining stock. Then she leaned back against the edge of the rink. Super cool. Super casual. Super calm and collected. 

A cupcake cradled in her hands. 

It was worth it to see Laura’s smile when she emerged with the team from the changing rooms, scanning the crowd like she wasn’t expecting to see anything. 

The smile that bloomed nearly stole Carmilla’s breath away; almost the one Laura got when she slid across the ice on her skates. 

As Laura walked to towards, hair still wet from the showers and bag slung over her shoulder. Carmilla said, “Cupcake?”

Laura shook her head, smiling, and took the cupcake while shoving her hockey stick into Carmilla’s arms to get her hands free to eat it. “A goal and an assist and I still don’t get a cookie?” she said.

“You were pretty good.” Laura’s eyes lit up at the words, “ But i can’t let you think bribing me with tickets will work to acquire baked goods.” Carmilla said, “That would be unethical for the Silas’s Panthers star player.”

Laura rolled her eyes, “And here I thought free concessions was going to be a perk of the job.”

“I’ll keep paying for the cupcakes then, Cap. That’s as close as you’ll get to any job perks.” the words slipped out and Carmilla paused as Laura’s head whipped up to look at her. An odd expression on her face. 

“You,” Laura shifted, “You pay for the cupcakes? I thought. That the arena? But. There’s one like every day.”

Carmilla shrugged, turning towards the door in an effort to hide the heat she could feel in her cheeks, “Can’t have you not getting your sugar high. You might spend your days somewhere else and then who would scare away the frat boys from buying too many hot dogs?” She made to leave.

Something tugged her back. Literally. She turned to find Laura’s hand closed around the hockey stick that Carmilla was somehow still holding. 

She caught Carmilla’s gaze and didn’t let go, “I’m glad you came tonight. I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

Carmilla’s stomach flipped and she tried to find words. Just as something was forming on her tongue, someone shouted.

“Hey Hollis!” The team was still milling around them, “You still need that lift to the post game party?”

“Oh. Um.” Laura deflated a little and looked over, “Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

The sad hedgehog look kicked Carmilla’s brain into overdrive, “I can drive you.”

“What?”

She cursed her own brain but the words kept coming, “To the party. If you need a ride. I can take you. My car’s out back.” Then she realized the stupidity of that statement as Laura goggled at her, “Which makes no sense because your teammate is going any way. I’ll just see you lat-”

“I’ll go with you!” The words practically exploded from Laura’s mouth. She turned to her team and Carmilla tried to ignore the way the red headed assistant captain was watching them, “I’m gonna go with Carm. Meet you there!”

Laura practically yanked her to her car by the hockey stick. Nearly holding hands. Heat of Laura close enough to feel and only letting go to try and stuff all the hockey equipment into Carmilla’s tiny trunk. 

She learned that Captain Laura Hollis bopped and sang to the radio, practically glowing under the streetlamps. A whole new light to her face when all Carmilla had seen her in was the florescence of the stadium. Then Laura looked at her, scrunching her nose and gesturing until Carmilla caved and sang along, a small smile cracking over her own lips.

A whole new kind of beautiful her brain whispered. 

She took the long way. Laura said nothing.

They sat in the driveway for a moment, the party easily heard in the house just before them. “You could come in?” Laura said at last, “You know. If you want. We’d be happy to have you.”

She thought of figure skaters who would be inside.

Carmilla shook her head, smile gentle, “I don’t think this one is for me. A little too much like the ice. Enjoy your night Captain.”

Laura frowned, clearly thinking it through. Her face going soft when she figured it out. 

There was no push to come. There was no warning for Laura’s reaction. Before Carmilla could realize it, the softest kiss was being pressed to her cheek. Then Laura pulled back, lingering in her space to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Carmilla popped the trunk for her in a daze.

#

It kept happening while Laura was camped out at her booth. Soft brushes of her hand. Quick looks that Carmilla caught only from the corner of her eye. Red cheeks when Carmilla tried her luck with a flirty one liner.

Hope when Laura tentatively asked, “What are you doing this Saturday?”

It was easy to respond as Carmilla nibbled her cookie, “I’ve got season passes to the Silas Panthers, cupcake. Can’t let that kind of ticket go to waste.”

Laura beamed. 

#

Once again, Carmilla found herself among the screaming crowd at the arena. Once again, she found herself on her feet and cheering as the Panthers scored. As Laura scored. Once again she found herself lingering in the arena for Laura with a cupcake in her hands. 

Except this time she was ready when a hockey stick was forcibly shoved into her arms. What she wasn’t ready for was Laura’s words as she practically inhaled the cupcake, “I want pancakes. Do you want pancakes? Let’s get pancakes.”

Carmilla frowned, swinging the hockey stick over her shoulder and following Laura out the door, “Don’t you have a party to be getting to?”

Laura shrugged and stopped by Carmilla’s car, “I told them that I wasn’t going.”

Carmilla stared at her.

“Unless you have plans?”

The scared look on Laura’s face had Carmilla sliding in, hitting the button to pop the trunk while crowding Laura’s space. For just a moment, she thought Laura’s breath caught, “No plans, cupcake. I’ve just been informed that my night is going to involve eating something sweet and sugary and it takes a girl a moment to catch up.” She added a little rasp to her voice and was rewarded with a slight dilation of Laura’s pupils. 

Time to bring it home. She reached out for Laura’s hockey bag, sliding it off Laura’s shoulder and giving herself the excuse to hover right in front of Laura’s lips. Her own heart pounding. Trying to read every cue on Laura’s face. 

Until she went careening to the side, hockey bag tugging her over as a massive weight suddenly hit her hand. Carmilla sprawled over the bag and slammed into the side of her car. There was a pause. Then a giggle behind her.

Carmilla scowled, turning to find Laura trying not to laugh at her. The more Carmilla frowned, the more Laura laughed. Reaching out, Laura hoisted the bag into the trunk and said, “Not everyone has my muscles, Carm.”

She flexed and Carmilla’s knees went wobbly.

Pushing herself upright, Carmilla scowled and opened the car door, “Let’s just get some pancakes, Cap.”

She didn’t even last five minutes with her pretend scowl. It was impossible to keep scowling when Laura was laughing, cheeks stuffed with pancakes.

So Carmilla planned her revenge.

When the car pulled into Laura’s driveway, Carmilla got out and opened the door for Laura. Letting her take the bag, Carmilla followed with the hockey stick. 

When they reached the porch, Carmilla leaned the stick against the house and softly, carefully, slowly, intentionally, kissed Laura on the cheek. Right by the corner of her mouth where Carmilla could almost feel the softness of her lips.

She left Laura in a daze.

Her own heartbeat going wild in her chest. 

#

It went crazy at the next Panther’s practice. Laura had stopped at her booth to chat, a lightness in her steps and a grin on her lips as she took the offered cupcake. She picked up right where they’d left off the day before, asking Carmilla if she’d seen the latest episode of Doctor Who yet before scuttling off the change room when the harried team manager came to retrieve her. 

It took Carmilla a minute to notice. 

Laura on the ice was something she always noticed, watching her skate through each drill as the team milled around her. Carmilla frowned, putting down a slushie cup to stare a little harder as her brain told her that something was off.

She just couldn’t put her finger on it. 

Then. It punched her in the chest. The number on the jersey was wrong. A big number 16 where a 98 usually stood. No Captain’s “C” on the jersey. As soon as Laura turned, it was obvious why. The wrong name stared back at her.

A big “KARNSTEIN” emblazoned over Laura’s shoulders. 

The jersey Laura had made for her when they first met. 

Carmilla’s heart hit overdrive, working it’s way up into her throat as she accidentally overflowed slushie onto the floor. 

It took one of her teammates pointing out the mix up for Laura to realize, the team cracking up around her. Even Carmilla could tell from a distance that Laura went bright red, grabbing her shirt, and then rushing back off to the change rooms to return with the proper “HOLLIS” shirt in place. 

But. 

KARNSTEIN was embedded in Carmilla’s brain. 

Laura was still red when she slowly approached Carmilla’s booth after the practice, her teammates elbowing her as they went. So Carmilla looked at her, grinned, and purred, “You look good with my name on your back, cupcake.”

As good as blue and gold looked on the Captain, red was an even better colour.

#

After a string of wins, Carmilla was there when the Panther’s lost their first match of the season. When the final buzzer went off, Laura’s shoulders dropped and her face fell. Even as she pulled herself back together, to encourage her own team, Carmilla could see the loss weighing on her as Laura trudged back into the changing room. 

As she lingered by the doors, still avoiding the gaze of the other waiting family and friends, Carmilla looked down at the cupcake in her hands. With a deep breath, she set it down and turned towards the main exit. As soon as she was clear of the crowd, Carmilla broke into a sprint. Skidding to a stop just before the main foyer, she caught her breath and casually strode over to the small merchandise booth that was closing up for the night.

Carmilla pulled out her wallet. 

She was huffing from her second sprint of the night as she made it back to the players exit. Carmilla cursed when she realized the players were already out. She quickly found Laura, her shoulders slumped and eyes on the ground, looking even worse than before. The big assistant captain had her hand on Laura’s shoulder as Kirsch hovered around them.

Grabbing her cupcake, Carmilla tentatively walked over. 

She caught Kirsch’s words and her pace picked up, “Don’t you worry hockey bro, I’m sure C-dog didn’t ditch.”

Laura was still looking down, “We lost. Not much of a party tonight anyway.”

“Hey now,” Carmilla cut in, uncaring of her audience as Laura’s head whipped up, “Don’t you go beating yourself up over that, cupcake. You can’t help it if the ref was blatantly making bad calls. That’s just an excuse for extra whipped cream on the pancakes.We’ll start with this though,” she put the cupcake in Laura’s hands.

Laura didn’t even look at it. She shoved the cupcake at Kirsch so fast that Carmilla didn’t have time to react before she had two arm-fulls of Captain Laura Hollis hugging her tight.

Squishing her new jersey between them. 

Slowly, Carmilla hugged her back when Laura showed no sign of letting go.

Then there was a mumble into her neck and the press of smile, “You look good with my name on your back, Karnstein.”

Carmilla squeezed her a little tighter then pushed her off, rolling her eyes once she knew Laura could see, “Don’t go getting a big head on me, cupcake. I was just cold. Needed the extra layer.”

Laura grinned as Carmilla picked up her hockey bag, gritting her teeth at the weight but determined to throw it over her shoulder, “Sure, Carm. Sure.”

When she turned to walk to the car, she could feel Laura’s eyes on her back.

The HOLLIS displayed for all to see.

“Stop checking me out, Cap,” Carmilla added a sway to her hips, “and let’s get you food.”

#

She was wearing the jersey again at the next game, HOLLIS once again glowing under the arena lights. There was an extra stride to Laura’s movements, a determination written on her face to make up for the last game and put them back on the win roster. 

Carmilla was on the edge of her seat, hands balled in the bottom of the jersey as the time ticked down and the score continued to show a 1 - 1 score. Tied. Only a few minutes left to get another win in the column and grab that extra point. 

Silas was trying but with only two minutes to go, two players collided and a penalty was called. Against Silas. 

Down one player with no time left on the clock. 

Laura knew it. 

Carmilla could see it as she strapped her helmet back on, itching to get back on the ice as she took her turn on the bench. The moment the coach released her, Laura was on fire. She tore over the ice, getting the puck on her stick and flying. Her teammates tried to keep up but her mad dash had left her alone against the two defencemen. Carmilla’s fists tightened.

“Come on.” she whispered. 

Laura feinted and the crowd roared as she left one behind. 

But the buzzer was ticking and there was no time for anything else. Carmilla was half on her feet as Laura charged the net unable to see what everyone else could. The final defenceman was on her, jostling her for the puck as Laura struggled to keep her skates when the two sticks collided. She glanced up, eyes on the goal, and pulled back for what Carmilla knew was going to be a shot.

The defenceman saw it too. 

Laura went for the shot. They slammed into her just as the shout left Carmilla’s lips. As though she could warn her. Save her. Help her. 

The smack of the puck on wood.

The thump of body on body.

The buzz of a goal scored. 

The crash of a body on the ice. 

The silence of a player who wasn’t getting up.

“Laura!” Carmilla was out of her seat and yanking on the door to the ice before anyone could stop her. The latch easy under fingers that had never forgotten how to open it even if it had been years. Then it was thrown out with a crack and all Carmilla could see was Laura, crumpled on the ice. 

Her shoes slid every way on the ice but Carmilla didn’t care as she pounded across it, dodging any player who dared reach for her. She fell to her knees, sliding into Laura’s side and grabbing at her helmet to tear it off, “Laura, Laura, Laura.” Her fingers were shaky on the buckles but the helmet came off and Carmilla pushed Laura’s hair back with careful fingers to find dazed eyes staring back at her. 

Alive. Awake. 

“Carm?” Laura mumbled, “My arm hurts.” Then Laura went to reach for her.

“Hey,” Carmilla grabbed Laura’s arm, holding her still, “Don’t move Laura. You’ve had a bit of a fall.”

As she said it, the coach and the arena first aid appeared on the ice beside her. Carmilla would have shot them a glare for being so slow but that would have meant moving her eyes from Laura’s. 

“We need to get her to the doctor.”

Carmilla nodded but didn’t look away.

Just as they lifted Laura, she blinked once and said, “Carm. You’re on the ice?”

Then she was gone, the stretcher bearing her away.

#

Laura was sitting in the stands, a cast on her arm and a sad look on her face as she watched her team practice without her. A broken arm and a concussion. When something good happened, she’d practically bounce in her sit and vibrate with energy. Once, Carmilla watched her actually start to stand before deflating as she remembered that she couldn’t play. She practically fell back into the bleachers, fight falling from her eyes. 

Carmilla couldn’t take it. She swiped a baked good, hopped the counter and made a beeline towards the stands, plopping into the seat beside Laura like everything was inconsequential. 

Laura turned to look at her.

“Special delivery,” Carmilla said. 

She held out a chocolate chip cookie.

Laura stared at it. Then at her. Then back to the cookie. “If I knew all it took was breaking an arm then I definitely would have faked a cast.”

Carmilla shrugged, “No idea what you’re talking about. We’re just out of cupcakes.” She pointedly ignored looking at the row of cupcakes back at the booth.

“Mmmhmmmmm,” Laura said. Regardless, she smiled and took the cookie. Balancing it on her knee, she tore off a small piece and popped it in her mouth. 

It wasn’t the smile Carmilla was looking for, “Something wrong?”

Laura shrugged, picking at the cookie, “I just, realized, maybe I don’t actually want the cookie.” She popped another piece in her mouth and gave Carmilla a small smile, “Thanks for trying though, Carm.”

The words fell out of her mouth, “Well what do you want? I can get a cupcake?” She attempted to save herself with an added wink, saying, “Although it’s going to cost extra for the delivery fee. I don’t come cheap Captain.”

Laura’s eyes were back on the ice, sad, “I don’t think I want a cupcake today either.”

“Oh.” Carmilla fell back against the seat, something like defeat curling in her gut, “Okay. Sorry. I’ll just-”

Her words died when a small, warm hand curled in her own. Laura’s eyes were still on the ice but the blush was clear on her cheeks as she curled around her casted arm, the other reaching towards Carmilla. 

Her words soft, “Can I have this?”

Can I have a cookie?

Nope.

“Yes.” Carmilla said.

So Carmilla stayed for the entire practice, holding Laura’s hand and completely ignoring the line-up at the booth to watch Laura struggle to sit on the sidelines.

As Laura left for the night, eyes staring longingly at the ice. Carmilla made a snap decision, “Laura!” she called, “11pm tonight. Be here.”

#

The bag was heavy in Carmilla’s hand even if the weight was familiar and the strap moulded to her fingers like it was meant to be held by her hand alone. She set it down and went to wait by the arena doors, fingers tapping against her thigh as she waited. Just when the rhythm had reached it’s peak, the doors cracked open and Laura stepped inside.

Relief passing over her face as she saw Carmilla, “I don’t usually break into hockey arenas at night, Carm. What’s up?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “We’re not breaking in, cupcake. Come on.”

She walked away and Laura fell in step beside her, “Um. There’s literally no-one else here. We’re definitely not supposed to be here.” 

Carmilla ignored that, “What’d the Doctor say about that concussion? You can’t play in case you get hit right? Can’t jostle it or the arm.”

“Basically,” Laura scowled in a way that Carmilla had given up not finding adorable, “I’m benched until the arm heals up. Concussion is basically already gone. They just don’t want me getting another one.”

“Perfect.”

Reaching the back entrance of the skate shop, Carmilla quickly jimmied the lock and stepped inside the dark room.

“Carm!” alarm shot through Laura’s voice, “You can’t even pretend this isn’t breaking and entering anymore!”

Carmilla said nothing, holding back a swear as she tripped over a display case.

“Carm!” Laura called again, “I’d really rather not get arrested.”

Moving through the dark was not easy but Carmilla managed to snag a pair of hockey skates in Laura’s size and a helmet before getting back out of the shop without permanently damaging anything. “Look,” she said, “Do you want to skate tonight or not?” She held up the skates, “Cause I can just go put these back.”

Laura’s eyes were on the skates like a kid in a candy shop. Fingers twitching.

“Let’s not be hasty now.” She said, “You’ve already stolen them and you’ll put them back so…”

Carmilla winked, “That’s what I thought.”

“Are we allowed on the ice?” Laura asked, keeping close to the skates but eyeing the half-dim arena lights. 

“I should hope so,” Carmilla gestured to the nearest bench and Laura sat, “This is my ice time.” 

She bent down and yanked off Laura’s shoe so that she didn’t have to see Laura’s face melt. She could still hear it in Laura’s voice, “You still keep your ice time.”

“Like I’m going to let them take it from me,” Carmilla said, “This place has few enough perks as it is.”

Laura saw right through her but said nothing as Carmilla tied the skate up for her. It would have been an impossible task for Laura’s broken arm to get the laces tight enough. Just as Carmilla moved onto the second skate, Laura quietly said, “You went on the ice. Last week. When I broke my arm.”

“I did.” Carmilla focused on the laces. 

They weren’t tying right.

“You said you’d never go on the ice again.” Laura said.

“I did.” Carmilla repeated.

Laces still weren’t cooperating, stiff in her fingers. 

“Well, thank you,” Laura said, the words exploding, “I mean, I don’t remember much from the fall but I remember your face and that it made it less scary cause you were familiar and I know you didn’t do it all for me but I still wanted to say thank you because I know it had to have been hard for-”

“Laura,” Carmilla said. The skate finally tied, she stood and offered her hand, “Of course it was all for you.”

Laura stared at her.

“Oh.”

Laura took her hand and let Carmilla walk her to the ice’s edge. Carmilla unlocked the door, “Ready?”

“Oh yeah!” Laura gave her hand a squeeze then she was gone, skating slow circles but that smile back on her face as she floated over the ice. It was then that Carmilla realized she still had the helmet dangling from her fingertips.

“Hollis,” she shouted, “Your helmet!”

Laura made a face at her, scrunching her nose. A clear no thank you.

“Laura!”

Laura ignored her, taking off for the other side of the ice.

“You just had a concussion!” Carmilla shouted. 

Nothing.

Of course I’m doing it for you.

With the helmet dangling from her fingertips and Laura doing increasingly dangerous turns as she sped up, Carmilla’s hand found the handle of that familiar bag. The zipper slid down like an old swan song as the gleaming white skates stared up at her. Pristine. Still maintained as the sharp metal shone beneath the skate guards. 

Her grip tightened on the helmet. Breath short.

But when Carmilla looked up, Laura’s eyes were closed as she glided from one end of the arena to the other. Arms outstretched and that massive smile on her face. Free.

And not looking at where she was skating despite her concussed head.

The skates slid on easily, reminding her that they had been molded to her feed. Her hands suddenly weren’t clumsy on the laces, the soft fabric slipping easily between the teeth as she laced the figure skates up her ankle. Then a quick walk, the creak of a spring as she removed the skate guards, and.

And.

Carmilla was skating. 

The ice smooth under her blades as her feet found the pattern like it had never left them, the crisp cold the arena suddenly settling easy under her skin. The smell of ice thick in her nose. The shrick shrick of blades cutting through ice. She waited for the tension to hit. For her stomach to roll the way it had every time after. 

But all she could see was Laura. Cast wearing, grinning, concussion having, fake hockey playing and pretending to score an invisible goal, Laura.

So Carmilla skated over the ice, grabbed Laura’s arm, and plopped the helmet on her head. Laura stared at her, eyes wide, as Carmilla gently buckled the strap.

“You can skate like a banshee again when you don’t have brain damage,” Carmilla said.

Laura opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again, “YOU’RE SKATING!”

“Excellent observation, cupcake.” Carmilla tried for sarcasm.

Laura wasn’t having it, “Can you show me something?” Laura asked, “Like a twirl or a spin or something cool? If you remember and you’re okay with it? They don’t teach us how to do those in hockey and when I was a kid I thought it was so cool except when I tried to spin in a game they said it was too dangerous cause skates are sharp.”

Carmilla nearly laughed at the eager look in Laura’s eyes, “I’ll see what I can do.” 

She skated backwards away, eyes locked on Laura as she begged her body to remember how to do. Only one move came to mind. She searched for anything but it was all she could remember as a hint of tension snuck back into her stomach. 

So Carmilla skated forward, eyes on the ice, took a deep breath, and pushed off into a triple axel. And in that moment, she was flying. She was free. Nothing else mattered but the ice and the timing and her body flowing through the air as she spun. Push off on one foot and just go. Her landing was shaky and her body protested after years of inactivity but she kept her feet, skating out with her arms slightly extended. 

And when Carmilla looked up, it wasn’t Ell waiting for her. 

It was Laura, her helmet lopsided and wonder in her eyes as she skated over to grab Carmilla. Already talking, “That was so cool, Carm! Like so so cool.” Her hands closed around Carmilla’s arms, “There has got to be a way to combine hockey and figure skating. Like a new sport! We could totally invent it. You think you could do that while holding a stick? We could get rid of some of the hockey pads, less bulk. It’d be fine. Okay. But first you need to teach me how to-”

She made to try it and Carmilla had to grab her, the laughter bubbling over, “Maybe we start with something simpler,” she said, “and when you’re less concussed.”

Laura stuck her tongue out, “Fine. Party pooper.”

“I’m the one who got you on the ice,” Carmilla reminded her.

Laura considered it, “True.” She eyed Carmilla then burst, “Race you then!”

She was gone, racing across the ice and leaving Carmilla to chase her. So Carmilla did. She took off, not a misstep to her skates as she bore down on Laura. Her glides smooth compared to the clunk necessitated by hockey skates. At the center line, Laura turned to face her. Cheeks red from the cold and arms outstretched, “Can’t catch me!” she said.

Her smile huge. 

“You cheated!” Carmilla called back.

Laura laughed. Then closed her eyes, threw her arms out, and let herself just fly backwards on her own momentum. They cracked open, “Come on, Carm!” she shouted, “Just do it!”

Carmilla tentatively put her arms out and, with one last look at Laura’s smile, closed her own eyes. It was the wind that hit her first, cold and crisp and pouring over her skin as her own speed created it. She could feel the ice under her blades, every movement of her feet sending her gliding on. The cold in her lungs that just felt like life, like the coldest ice cream swallowed with every breath. 

She smiled. 

Carmilla smiled. Eyes closed and head thrown back as the wind and the cold and the ice poured over her. With the cold around her, Carmilla felt the last of her melt away. A smile splitting her face as it drained away. 

She only stopped when warmth grabbed her around the waist and she opened her eyes to find Laura inches from her face. Eyes wide in wonder. “Sorry,” Laura was breathless, “Didn’t want you to hit the far side.”

They’d made it all the way across. 

Laura didn’t let go. 

Carmilla could still feel herself smiling. “How about this,” Carmilla said, “I’ve got this ice time twice a week and it seems a shame to enjoy it alone. I’ll teach you to figure skate if you teach me how to play hockey.”

“I can do that!” Laura said. Then she added, “But, I thought you didn’t like the ice? And you kept your ice time all these years.”

She couldn’t lie to rosy cheeks and shining eyes, “I took the job, kept the job,” Carmilla said, “Because I always hoped that one day I’d learn to love skating again. That I could find that joy again.”

“And did you?” Laura asked.

Carmilla smiled and kissed her. Laura’s hands tightened on her waist as she kissed her back before breaking the kiss to ask, “Wait. Does this mean I can get cookies, now?”

“Nope.”

Carmilla kissed her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that you're all still here, reading, even with no current canon content still blows me away. Thank you. Just thank you for coming back to read and for all your encouragement, kudos, comments and [ tumblr stop-ins ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/)
> 
> stay stupendous!

**Author's Note:**

> Cupcakes, you are all perpetually epic and I'm ridiculously and continually flabbergasted by the strength and kindness of this fandom and its creampuffs with your comment, kudos and [ tumblr stop-ins ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/).


End file.
